Break Me Down
by Keya127
Summary: Postwar, AU, implied mPreg, PG13, but rating will go higher in later chapters. Right now its PWP. What do Death Eaters, old boyfriends, America, and secrets have in common? Read and find out. HPDM
1. Henry Planter

**Author's notes**: Wow, the first chapter of my very first fanfiction. I know it's short, but if I get enough reviews/feedback, I promise to post longer chapters. So please, read and review! Also, there would be a prequel to this story to further the plot line, but I won't post it unless I know people are going to read it. P

**Summary**: It's Christmas time, and Harry is doing some last-minute shopping when he runs into Draco.

**Disclamer**: All characters, ideas etc... belong to J.K Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made off of this story.

* * *

It was three days before Christmas, and Harry still hadn't bought Molly her present.

"What do you want?" he had asked her.

She tore her eyes away from the page in the book she was reading long enough to answer, "Henry Planter, the new one."

Harry looked at Ron- his daughter was only four years old, and wanted _books_ for Christmas. Ron shrugged back; obviously his daughter's love for reading had come from Hermione. Hermione groaned at the mention of the book. "Harry, I'm afraid you've just undertaken a nearly impossible task," Hermione sighed.

"Why would you say that?" Harry asked. He saw the expression on Hermione's face and began to wonder what he'd gotten himself into.

Harry soon found out, however, as he waded through the crowded streets of Diagon Alley which lead to the congested entrance to Flourish and Blotts. _Bloody Hell,_ Harry thought to himself. _How popular _is_ this book?_

Harry managed to push through the crowd and enter the shop. There was a huge _Henry Planter_ display, and an even bigger line. Suddenly, someone grabbed his arm. Harry spun around to meet the gaze of Seamus, his old roommate. " Harry! How've y'been? It's been awhile, mate." Seamus said excitedly, his Irish lilt getting thicker by the minute. Harry brought his hand to the back of his head, and ran it through his hair, making it stick out more than it already did. Before he could reply, the young Irish man started to speak. "I bet you're here for the new Henry Planter book-funny title, eh? -That's what everyone else is here for anyway. I happen to know where there's an autographed copy in the back, if you want it- no waiting in these bloody lines. What do you say?"

"Sure, that would be great, thanks Seamus." Harry replied as he watched Seamus scurry off to the back room to fetch the book.

"But Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaadddyyyyy! I don't bloody want to!" came a shrill little voice from across the store. Seamus returned and handed Harry his book.

"You'll do as I say Lucas, and you won't make a scene in front of all these people! And watch your mouth," the voice hissed loudly. The store quieted down, and everyone turned and stared at the source of the noise; a blonde man and his child. Harry noticed that all conversation had stopped, and the blonde man was frozen in embarrassment. Seamus, deciding to break the silence, yelled, "Look everyone, it's Harry Potter!" This diverted the attention of the shoppers long enough for the man and his son to slip out through the door.

Harry surveyed the store, and licked his lips nervously. "Thanks a lot, Seamus," Harry whispered angrily out of the corner of his mouth. "You know what everyone, I'd love to stay and chat with you all, but I'll miss my portkey. Happy Christmas everyone!" And with that, Harry scrambled out of the store, mission accomplished.

The blonde man and his son were outside of the store; the blonde man bending over to tie the little boy's shoe. Harry looked at the boy; he had green eyes, and unruly, dirty blonde hair. He looked exactly like his father, but there was someone else, someone Harry couldn't identify, in the boy as well. Harry walked over to the pair, and cleared his throat. The blonde man, startled, stood up. The boy, once he saw Harry, hid behind his father's legs.

"Hello, Malfoy," Harry said. The boy peeked out from behind Draco's legs

"Hello, Potter." Draco spoke with a tone that Harry couldn't identify. It was almost as if he were glad to see him, but was still trying to maintain his icy attitude. Draco turned behind to speak to his son. "Lucas, aren't you going to say hello and introduce yourself?"

The boy glared up at Harry from behind Draco's legs. "No." Draco bent down to pick Lucas up. He held him under the armpits.

"You're sure that you don't want to rethink that decision?" Draco, still holding his bundles of shopping bags, repositioned Lucas on his hip, to face Harry.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Potty," Lucas mumbled begrudgingly. "My name is Lucas." Draco winced at the introduction. Malfoy's always had better manners than that.

Lucas began to play with Draco's shoulder length bleach blonde hair. "Ow, owww, Lucas, you're pulling Daddy's hair-nice seeing you, Potter," Draco reached into his coat pocket with his free hand and gave Harry a business card. "Call me so we can catch up sometime- Owww, ow, ok Lucas, we're going now." Draco dropped Lucas down to the ground, took his hand, and walked away. Lucas turned around and stuck his tongue out at Harry, and then to top it off, gave the infamous Malfoy sneer.

The day couldn't get any stranger. Harry had met Malfoy out of the blue after not seeing him for Merlin knows _how_ long, he had a child with him (and showed _affection_ towards it) and what puzzled Harry the most, was that Draco gave him a business card with a _telephone number_ on it. Telephones were muggle things, and Draco Malfoy was the last person on earth he would ever expect to have a telephone number, let alone a t_elephone_.

Harry looked at the business card:

_Draco Malfoy,_

_Chief Executive Officer_

_Malfoy Industries and Investments,_

_London, England._

Then it listed his telephone, fax, and _email_ address. _Bloody Hell_, Harry thought, _what's happened to him?_ Draco had changed drastically since they had last seen each other.

* * *

Author's notes: So, did you like it? All reviews are welcomed, flames are not.

also, I apologize for some american slang that i may use in the future...I don't have a brit-picker to help me with that, so bear with me.


	2. Summer Memories

**Author's notes:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Your reviews really motivated me to work on the story, and get you the next chapter. Also, big thank-you to my **beta**, Melissa.

**Disclamer**: All ideas, characters ect...belong to JK Rowling, and her publishers. No copyright infringment is intended, and no money is being made.

**Summary**: It's christmas, and Harry spends the day with the Weasleys at Ron and Hermione's house. Main pairings in this chapter include Hermione/Ron, and Harry/OC.

**Warnings:** This chapter will be rated R, for safety measures, because of some sexual refrences/situations, and language. Also this is slash, meaning male/male relationships. If you don't like it, don't read it.

* * *

Harry woke up Christmas morning to find Hedwig tapping at his window. He rubbed his eyes that were bleary with sleep, and rolled out of bed to open the window for Hedwig who was carrying a small bundle. He took it and added it to a small pile of envelopes and packages. Hedwig hooted; she wanted Harry to notice how far she had traveled. Harry took Hedwig, and placed her on her perch, and gave her a treat.

Harry returned to the battered bundle that had come such a long way. DO NOT OPEN UNTIL CHRISTMAS was scrawled all over the package in familiar handwriting. Harry tore off the paper to find a smaller box with a note attached. Harry unfolded the note, "You know what to do Harry," it read. Harry took his want from his bedside table and enlarged the package, which turned out to be rather large. He lifted up the top, and took out a bag of candy from Murdock's, Harry's favorite candy store in the states. Next, came an American foot ball, with the new England Patriots logo on it, "charmed to spiral perfectly no matter how bad the throw coughHarrycough" read a second note that was attached to the football itself. Other presents from the box included a carved mahogany wand handle, three books on the Salem Witch trials (Harry had asked for these to give to Hermione), a Boston Red Sox Hat-Harry laughed at this one- and finally a pair a of American Flag boxer shorts, with a framed picture of Harry and his American friends waving up at him.

Harry grabbed his shorts and shuffled over to his dresser to put those away before anyone else had a chance to see them, or before he would forget to do it. After he had done this, he returned to the picture, and stared at his friends.

There was Lena, the first American he met, and his roommate of four years, smiling up at him and blowing kisses; Tom, Lena's boyfriend, and resident handy man/"macho" man; Dan, Harry's other roommate who taught him the finer points of American athletics, standing next to his girlfriend Sarah, who was Lena's best friend. Harry's heart stopped. Standing next to him was Karston, Harry's arm around his waist. Karston had sandy blonde hair, and bright, clear blue eyes. It was summer time in the picture, and they were at Tom's lake house in New Hampshire. Obviously, the picture had been taken before he and Karston had broken up, but Harry couldn't remember when exactly they took the picture. Summers went by quickly at the lake.

Another owl at Harry's window broke him out of his trance. He crossed the room and opened the window. He took the envelope from the gray owl, and tore it open.

_Harry,_

_Where are you? It's nearly 12:45, and you were supposed to be here an hour ago! Come over ASAP._

_-Ron_

_Oh shit_, Harry cursed as he stumbled to his bed and looked at the charmed muggle clock on his nightstand. "12:59" _Fuck. I _am_ late, _Harry thought pulling on his glasses and rushing around his room, puling on the outfit he'd put out the night before. He finished getting dressed, grabbed the Weasley's presents, glanced around the room, and apparated on to the manicured lawn of Ron's house. Rushing up to the doorstep, he rang the bell.

"Sorry I'm late," he gasped to Hermione, who answered the door.

"It's alright, Harry," she said as she let him inside. "Remus and Tonk's haven't arrived either, but I don't think that they're coming." Harry followed Hermione into their living room, and was greeted by the Weasley clan. Ginny, Molly (junior), Charlie and Ron were seated on one couch, Fred and George took up a love seat, Fleur was sitting on Bill's lap, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sitting in two chairs.

Fred and George got up to greet Harry. "Harry! How are you?" hey asked in unison. Fred clapped Harry on the back making him nearly drop his pile of gifts.

"Haven't seen you since-"

"-You came back-"

"-From America-"

"-Not one post card-"

"-Or a letter-"

"-Or a telegram-"

"-Or even a phone call from one of those Muggle telephones-"

"-Is it true that American wizards use them instead of post owls-"

"-Or firecalls?"

Luckily, Mrs. Weasley got up and stopped the bombardment of questions. "I'm sure that Harry will tell us all about America over dinner," she said, resting her hands on Harry's shoulders, "Won't you, dear?"

"Oh yeah, Harry's got _loads_ to say, don't you, Harry? Let's focus on dinner first though." Ron answered hungrily.

"Ronald, you've just eaten half of the h'ors d'oeuvres! You're not even somewhat full?" Hermione asked, already knowing the answer.

"Hermione, you should know by now that Ron can eat loads of food and not be full." Charlie replied.

"Only too well." Hermione responded, rolling her eyes.

Dinner was ended, and Harry and the Weasleys retired to the living room for presents. Molly came up to Harry, and sat in his lap. Even though Harry had only been back for two months, he had grown attached to the youngest Weasley.

"Braid please. Do the one where it's attached to my head by adding little bits." She requested. Harry knew this was coming.

While living with Lena, he had mastered the French Braid, because, quite frankly, Lena couldn't braid for shit. Harry, surprisingly (once he was taught by Sarah, of course) had picked it up pretty quickly, and was responsible for braiding Lena's hair before she went to bed so " it would be wavy in the morning." Molly had discovered Harry's talent for braiding the first time she met him, while Hermione was struggling to tame Molly's bushy red hair. Hermione was struggling to replicate the hairstyle of a model in a picture that Molly had pointed out, and Harry stepped in to help; and thus a friendship was born.

As Harry was positioning Molly in his lap, Ron began passing out the presents. After they were distributed, everyone (except Harry, who was preoccupied braiding Molly's hair) opened one present from their pile. No sooner had the wrapping come off, an ear piercing shriek echoed through the room. Molly tore off of Harry's lap, braid unfinished and raced over to her mother.

"HENRY PLANTER-LOOK MUMMY! HENRY PLANTER!" Molly paused to open the book, bringing an even louder shriek. " IT'S _SIGNED_!" Molly raced around the room, showing it to everyone, giving them the briefest of chances to glimpse at the signature.

"OH MY GOD HARRY! I LOVE IT! I LOVE YOU! THANK YOU SO MUCH!" She jumped up on his lap (her braid completely undone by now) and started smothering Harry in kisses, and flung her arms around his neck' enveloping him in a hug that compressed his airway

"You're welcome Mo-" was all Harry could manage to choke out before she tightened her embrace on his trachea.

"Come here Molls," Ron said as he walked over to Harry and his daughter. "Molly. Get off of Harry." He ordered.

"NO." came the muffled giggling response.

"Molly, don't make me pull you off!" Ron said sternly. Molly began to jump on Harry's legs, bucking her legs out at her father; still attached to Harry's neck however. Ron caught both of her legs and began to pull his daughter off Harry. Harry tried his best to keep still against the back of his chair, in hopes of ridding himself of Molly's death grip. He loved Molly, don't get him wrong, it's just that he loved oxygen more.

Molly clung to Harry's neck, giggling uncontrollably, shouting "HENRY PLANTER! HENRY PLANTER! HENRY PLANTER! HENRY PLANTER!" Ron gave up pulling the little Weasley off of Harry. Ginny, who had been watching the whole fiasco, rose from her seat, and walked over towards Harry and Molly. Ginny poked molly's side, and Molly squealed. Ginny started to tickle Molly profusely under her armpits and along her sides. Molly shrieked again, laughing hysterically.

Hermione had watched the whole incident from her seat on the couch. Her eyes narrowed in on Fred and George. "Fred, George, what did you give her?" she asked calmly, though her voice was laced with irritation.

"Us? You think that we would do this to an innocent little girl-"

"-Who happens to be the child of out dear brother-"

"-Ickle Ronniekins?" George finished.

"Yes, in fact, I do. I think-" but Hermione was cut short. Molly stood up and put her hands by her face, mimicking claws with her fingers. "ROAR ROAR ROAR! I'M A LION FROM GIFFINDOR!" she shouted. She ran to Mrs. Weasley. "ROAR! LOOK GRAMMY! I'M A LION! ROAR!" she giggled, and then hiccupped.

"Ok, fine, we gave her some Live it UP licorice." Fred admitted.

"_Live it up licorice_?" Hermione said, her voice becoming shrill, "What in Merlin's name does it do, and WHY DID YOU GIVE IT TO HER?"

"Well, you run such a tight ship around here," (Ron squeaked in fear for his brother's lives at this point)

" We figured she needed to loosen up a bit-"

"- Have some fun, like a _normal_ four year old-" Hermione tried to interject, but was cut off by George. "Since when are four year olds reading novels, Hermione?"

Hermione was fuming by now. "Well, she obviously has the intellectual ability to read so why not let her? I bet you're just jealous because _you_ couldn't read at that age. By giving her books we're encouraging her mind to grow, we're-" Ron interrupted Hermione, " 'Mione, you're ranting." Hermione glared at Ron. "One more comment out of you, and you'll be sleeping on the couch tonight Ronald Weasley!" Ron immediately backed out of the conversation.

"What do these candies do?" Hermione demanded again.

"Like the name says, Hermione, it allows the user to 'Live it UP'-"

"-To live life without being self conscious-"

"-Or worried-"

"-Or precocious." Someone added offhandedly

" In fact Hermione," George continued,

"You could do with some Live it Up yourself." Fred finished.

At this, Molly turned to Fred and George. "DON'T INSULT MY MUMMY!" Molly screeched angrily at her uncles. Ron snickered. Molly turned to him, and put her hands on her hips. "Don't you laugh at me, mister!" shouted Molly as she stamped her foot on the ground. Ron paled. His daughter looked and sounded like a red haired, four year old version of Hermione.

"There are some side effects that you should know about though, 'Mione, because we're still in the testing phase." George ventured.

"Like mood swings." Fred said as he pointed towards Molly, who was now standing on Bill's lap, playing with his hair. She became bored with Bill, and crawled onto Ron's lap.

"Ugh, gross!" Ron exclaimed, a look of disgust on his face. "Molly, come back to Daddy, I didn't mean it. Hermione, could you clean this up? Molly, wait for me!" Ron asked as he chased after a sobbing, soiled four-year-old.

"And incontinence," George added.

It was 10:00, and everyone except Fleur was in the living room. Fleur had insisted on "Practeezing 'er mozering skeelz," and was putting Molly to bed.

"So Harry," Mrs. Weasley started, "Tell us about America."

"What do you want to know?" Harry asked. He didn't talk to people about America unless they asked specific questions. Harry was afraid that he would let something slip about his relationship with Karston. As far as the Weasley's went, he was straight as a board. There was, however, one exception. Hermione had walked in on him and Karston when they were in a…bad position so to speak.

During the summer of Harry's second year in the American Auror training program, Harry made plans with Hermione and Ron to spend two weeks together with him and his American friends in a rented beach house together on Martha's Vineyard; a small island off the coast of Massachusetts that had a small Native American wizarding community in the town of Aquinnah, which was where Harry and his friends were staying.

It was a hot day, almost 95 degrees, and everyone was packing up to spend a day at the beach. Harry and Karston, however, had different plans. Initially, they had told the group that they would stay back and check out some of the old Native American sites, which were supposedly enchanted.

"Are they gone yet?" Karston asked, as Harry peered out the bedroom window. All that was left of the group was a cloud of dust and sand that the jeep kicked up after barreling down the driveway.

"Yeah, they're gone," Harry, said with a smirk. Karston sauntered up behind Harry and rested his head on Harry's shoulders, wrapping his arms around his waist.

"Well, come on then, hop to it," Karston said in a poorly imitated British accent. Harry turned around in his embrace, and draped his arms around Karston's neck. He thought it was cute how Karston tried to mimic his accent.

"Yeah? Well first I've got to _paak the cahh_. In _Hahvad Yahd, _mind you," Harry laughed, mocking Karston's slight Boston accent.

"I'm going to park _you_ right here." Karston said with a mischievous glint in his eye, turning Harry around, pushing him backwards onto the bed.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione realized that they had forgotten their lunches and drove back with Lena to get them.

"Lena, will you get the lunches? I've got to run upstairs to the loo." Hermione asked, half way up the stairs.

"Sure, no problem, I'll meet you out in the car."

Hermione hurried up the rest of the stairs to use the bathroom. On her way out, she noticed Harry's glasses on the edge of the sink. Hermione paused and listened; there were muffled sounds coming from one of the bedrooms. She quietly stepped outside into the hall, and opened the door to the source of the noise.

As the door opened, Harry and Karston stopped what they were doing, and collapsed on the bed in a flurry of movement. In their haste, they had managed to tangle the bed sheets around them in such a way that brought Harry crashing to the floor.

"Her-Her-Hermione, it's not what you think- I mean it is what you think, wait, no, I-"

Hermione had already covered her eyes. "No, really Harry, it's fine. Go; go back to whatever you were doing. Lena and I just came back for the lunches. I was just heading out; I'll leave you two alone." Hermione winced and backed out of the room, hands still covering her eyes. She rushed down the stairs and out the door, and climbed into the passenger seat of the Jeep.

"Hermione, are you alright? You look like you've just seen a ghost!" Lena said to Hermione.

"Worse," she mumbled. Hermione turned to Lena. "What ever you do, don't go up there." Lena's eyes lit up.

"You caught them, didn't you? I _knew_ something was going on between them!" Lena said excitedly.

Hermione laughed nervously. "You don't know the half of it."

"Oh! Oh! Harry," Mr. Weasley started excitedly, "Are they actually integrated with muggles?" Mr. Weasley was on the edge of his seat, eagerly awaiting Harry's answer.

"Yeah," Harry laughed, "they drive cars, and use telephones and electricity and they follow the muggle sports religiously. At least the ones in Massachusetts anyway." Harry added. "Actually, I can go back to my flat and get some of the things they sent me."

Mr. Weasley's eyes were practically popping out of his head, and Harry didn't think that his eyebrows could get any higher. "You'd do that? That would be-" Mrs. Weasley elbowed him in the ribs. "I mean, no you don't have to."

"Really Mr. Weasley, its fine, I'll be back in a second." Harry stood up from his chair, walked into the hall, and apparated to his flat.

Harry arrived at his house, and grabbed the package his American friends had sent him. Harry was about to pick up the picture that he had received from them, but decided against bringing it; the position he and Karston would in was rather suggestive, and Harry didn't feel like explaining his relationship with anyone tonight.

As Harry was about to apparate back to the Weasley's, a gray horned owl tapped his window with its beak. Harry crossed the room and opened the window. The owl hopped inside the room, deposited the letter on Harry's bedside table, and took off. He decided to leave it there until he returned from the Weasley's.

At the last minute, Harry grabbed a photo that was on his bedside table, one that didn't have him standing so closely to Karston, and he _finally_ apparated back to the Weasley's.


	3. The Letter

**Disclaimer**: All characters, ideas etc… belong to J.K Rowling and her editors. No money is being made.

**Warning: PG13+(the plus comes later)** This is slash, with _implied mPreg_. If you don't like either, then don't read the story.

**Author's notes**: I'm SO sorry for the late update. I've had finals all last week, and no time to do anything but study! (And then I had to wait for it to be beta-ed by Melissa, my faithful beta.)Oh, and sorry for the clichéd Hermione thing. It's not my favorite part of the chapter, but it got across what I needed it to. Besides, what else was I supposed to have her say? XP

Oh, and to lessen any confusion, each chapter starts where the last one left off. (It's still Christmas)

* * *

"Ooh, Harry! Who's this cutie? He's quite fit, isn't he Hermione?" Ginny giggled, passing the picture off to Hermione.

"Oh yeah, Ron and I met him two summers ago, remember Ron?" Hermione said, glancing at the photo. Harry's face turned scarlet at the mention of that summer; that was when Hermione walked in on him and Karston having sex. Luckily, the lights in the room were dimmed so no one saw Harry blush. Hermione passed the picture back to Harry. "That's Karston, Ginny. And there's Lena, Tom, Sarah, Dan, and I," Harry explained.

After Harry had passed out the Christmas gifts he had received, Ron, Fred, George and Mr. Weasley went outside to try out Harry's football, even though it was snowing _and_ dark out.

"_Men_." Mrs. Weasley grumbled as she went into the kitchen to help Ginny with the dishes. Hermione stood up from her seat on the couch, and joined Harry on the loveseat.

"Harry," she began, "Does anyone else know? About you know, your relationship or your sexuality?" Hermione asked in a whisper, eyes full of concern and affection for her best friend. All the color in Harry's face drained. With the exception of his American friends and Hermione, no one knew that he was gay. Harry looked down at the floor, and then up at Hermione. "No," he said hoarsely, "Just you. And Lena, and Tom, and pretty much everyone in America." Harry had a nervous and embarrassed look on his face.

"Well, Lena and everyone, that's a given. But I'm the only one here that knows?" she asked.

"Yeah, just you." A smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Hermione looked Harry in the eye. "Well Harry, you know I'll support you in what ever decision you make. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," Harry said, the smile no longer a smirk, "I do."

The men came back into the house, thoroughly soaked from the snow, leaving puddles all over Hermione's spotless kitchen. Mr. Weasley was clutching his side, but no one noticed him.

"Wonderful, Ronald. Now I have _two_ children to take care of." Hermione said, obviously annoyed. "You're going to catch a cold, you know that, right? And guess who's going to have to take time out from work to take care of you? _Me_, that's who," Hermione finished as she scurried around the kitchen, tending to the twins as well.

"Well, on the bright side Hermione," Fred began, "He's loads better at American Football than he ever was at Quidditch."

"Nearly broke Dad's ribs," George added as he motioned to his father, who was now being lectured about how "_Men your age shouldn't be playing contact sports_" by a not too happy Mrs. Weasley.

Harry, who had been watching silently from the corner of the kitchen, moved towards Ron. "I'm going to go now Ron, it's late, and I have to get up for a meeting tomorrow."

"Ok mate, see you on New Year's then. Don't be late this time," Ron laughed.

Harry said his good-byes to the Weasley clan, and apparated home where he promptly collapsed on his bed and fell asleep.

The next morning Harry woke up and groggily opened his eyes and surveyed the room. He still had a small pile of presents he had yet to open. Harry turned to get out of bed when the envelope that the Grey Horned owl delivered caught his eye. It was made of heavy, expensive paper, and was sealed with wax. But for all its beauty, the name "Harry Potter" was written clumsily on the front. Harry picked up the letter to examine it more closely. The seal imprinted on the wax had two serpents intertwined with the letter "M"; the Malfoy crest. Carefully, Harry broke the seal and pulled out a piece of parchment with what looked like crayon on it; Harry assumed it was a letter, and began to read.

_Dear Mr. Harry Potter,_

_Daddy says I have to give you a good apology because I acted bad when I met you. So here you go. I'm sorry._

_-Lucas James Malfoy_

Underneath the note was the small, neat script of Draco Malfoy.

_Potter-_

_Please forgive my son's behavior when we met- he was uncharacteristically rude. I apologize on his behalf. On another note, would you want to drop by the Manor tomorrow? I think it would be beneficial if Lucas apologized to you directly as well as through writing. Also, I have some things I wish to discuss with you. Just show up at the Manor (address enclosed) after one o'clock if you can._

_Sincerely,_

_Draco Lucius Malfoy_

Harry looked at the address Malfoy had sent him and folded the letter back in the envelope. His meeting today ended at 12:30, which would leave him time to visit Malfoy. That is, if he actually wanted to visit Malfoy. Harry was on the fence- on one hand, Harry was perfectly happy to blow Malfoy off. On the other hand, however, Harry felt bad for Lucas. Draco kept him on a leash as short as or possibly shorter than the one Lucius had kept Draco on (at least from what Harry could see when they last met each other). Still undecided, Harry set off for work.

"Harry, you're late," Kingsley said as Harry walked in the room.

"Kingsley, it's only by five minutes!" Harry protested.

"Late is late, Potter. We've already chosen our assignments." Kingsley picked up a folder and chuckled, "Which leaves the best for last," he said with a grin. Harry snatched the folder out of Kingsley's hand and opened it.

"You guys, c'mon! Will someone _please_ trade with me?" Harry asked desperately. Everyone around the table was trying to stifle a laugh- they had the chance to pick their assignments at the beginning of the meeting so they all knew the contents of Harry's file.

"No trading, Potter." Kingsley laughed. Harry sat down in a chair, tossed his folder on the table, and crossed his arms over his chest._ Bloody wonderful_, Harry thought to himself. He took up the folder and opened it again. Two blonde heads stared back at him. The larger one adjusted the smaller one on his hip. The smaller one sneered. _This is going to be a long day_, he sighed to himself. Harry put the file back on the table, and listened to what ever Kingsley was rambling on about.


	4. Assignments

**Disclaimer**: All characters, ideas, etc… belong to J.K Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made, no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warnings**: Fluff. And lots of it. See previous chapters for other warnings etc…

**Author's Notes**: Here is another chapter, which is somewhat longer than the last chapter I posted. (Sorry about the length for ch. 3- I didn't have much time, and I knew you needed an update!) Thanks to my beta, Melissa, and all those who review. (Keep reviewing!) Also, incase you're confused: When I say "not so dearly departed," I mean that the death wasn't pleasant, not that the person is still kind of alive.

**For those of you who haven't noticed**: My profile page has info about Break Me Down, so if you want to know when the next update is, check out my profile.

* * *

12:30 came, and Harry slowly gathered his belongings. It was still sinking in that there were Death Eaters out there (well, in hiding really,) who were still worshiping their not-so-dearly-departed leader. That had been the icing on the cake for Harry. First, he was late, then he had been assigned to look after/protect the _Malfoys_, and finally, he was protecting them from crazy Death Eaters who were out for revenge. His day couldn't get _any_ better.

Everyone had left the office, and Harry was the last one there. Sighing, he picked up his folder, and left the meeting room. Suddenly, Harry remembered that Malfoy had asked him over to his house at one o'clock. _Well, I need to go over there anyways,_ he thought to himself as he checked the clock. _He doesn't know if I'm coming…I can be a little late._ With that, he apparated to Ron and Hermione's house.

* * *

"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry," Hermione said to Harry as she prepared Molly's lunch. "Isn't there any way you can change it?"

"Tried to. Looks like I'm stuck protecting Malfoy and his son from Death Eaters bent on getting revenge," Harry sighed. "Do you know how bad it's going to be? Malfoy is well, _Malfoy_, and his son, from what I've seen, if he doesn't get his way, he turns into a right little-"

"It can't be _that_ bad, Harry. Like you said, Malfoy is Malfoy, and you've learned how deal with him." Hermione watched Harry raise an eyebrow. "And you're so good with Molly, I'm sure that his son will be fine" Hermione smiled, "Besides, it's not like you're going to have to move in with them."

* * *

"_It's not like you're going to have to move in with them." My arse,_ Harry cursed inwardly, as he walked down the gravel driveway, which led to Malfoy Manor. It turns out, as Harry learned, that this assignment _would_ involve moving in. With the Malfoys.

No sooner had Hermione uttered those words, Harry felt a small vibration in his pocket; it was the enchanted stone (similar to the galleon Harry and the rest of the D.A used in Harry's 5th year) that all Aurors had. The only purpose the stone served was to alert Aurors to new information if they were away from the office.

Harry groaned and looked at the clock. He thanked Hermione, said goodbye to Molly, and apparated outside the bounds of Malfoy Manor.

After a brief misunderstanding with a house elf, Harry was permitted to enter the gates to the Manor. The long winding driveway led to a neatly manicured and landscaped front lawn, which was blanketed in snow. It was fresh and unbroken, adding to the elegance of the manor.

He reached the door, and rang the bell, the sound resonating throughout the house.

"I GOT IT! I GOT IT! I GOT IT!" and the sound of small running feet were heard from behind the door. The door swung open, revealing a thoroughly disappointed Lucas.

"Oh. It's _you._" Lucas said, looking crestfallen as he walked back into the house, leaving Harry outside with the door ajar. "Daddy! It's not Gran, its just Potter. When is Gran going to get here?"

Draco came to the doorway, and motioned for Harry to step inside. Harry took in his surroundings. In front of him was a huge and elegant wooden staircase. Its banister was wrapped with gold fern, which undoubtedly led to the numerous levels of the manor. To his right was what appeared to be a living room, but it was so large that it could have passed as a ballroom. The first thing that Harry noticed about it was the gigantic Christmas tree, which had to have been at least 40 feet tall. The rest of the room, Harry noticed, had a large hearth, and light cherry wood floors. Paintings, Christmas decorations, and wall hangings decorated the warmly painted walls. There was a large window taking up most of the front portion of the wall and light was pouring in and reflecting off of the polished floors. A large sectional sofa was placed in front of the fireplace, along with a small coffee table, creating its own little section in the room.

There was something missing, and Harry realized that it was the cushions on the couch; they had been used to build a makeshift fort, which Lucas was now hiding in. Toys were scattered around the outside of the fort. Harry must have looked like he was thinking about the state of the room (due to Lucas's toys) because Malfoy broke the silence.

"They're guarding his fort…the room doesn't usually look like this, I-"

"It's fine, don't worry." Harry said. _It's much better than my flat has ever looked._

"Right then. Why don't we talk in the kitchen? Or would you prefer the study? What about the library? I'd suggest that we could stay here, but it isn't exactly private," Malfoy offered as he was fixing the pillows on the part of the couch that hadn't been stripped of its cushions.

"Kitchen's fine." Harry said, following Malfoy out of the room. He smiled to him self, Malfoy was acting so out of character; a completely different person than the one Harry knew during the War. He was acting like a cross between an enamored teenage girl, and a mother hen with a touch of OCD. The Manor was spotless, yet he still went around adjusting things on tables in the hallways on the way to the kitchen.

_Bit like Aunt Petunia,_ Harry thought.

When they finally reached the kitchen, it took Harry a minute to adjust to what he was seeing. Malfoy's kitchen was larger than any he'd ever been in. Black granite counter tops, with stainless steel appliances (which were charmed, of course) and a stove that Mrs. Weasley would have died for. It was as elegantly decorated (if not more so) than the living room.

Malfoy sat down at the large, round kitchen table, and crossed his legs, leaning back, surveying Harry. An eyebrow went up. "Aren't you going to sit down?" he asked, gesturing to a chair.

"Right," Harry said, hastily putting down the folder he was carrying and sitting down.

"Coffee? Tea? Firewhiskey?" Malfoy asked, as a house elf appeared. Harry shook his head. Malfoy asked for tea, and dismissed the elf.

"So," Malfoy began awkwardly, "You decided to come. I wasn't sure if you were or not…" his voice trailed off.

"I actually have two reasons for coming," Harry said.

"Oh, and what would those be?" Malfoy asked with an almost flirtatious tone in his voice.

Harry was a little taken aback at the way Malfoy asked the question, but didn't show it. "Well, the first reason is because you've invited me. The second reason is because I've been assigned to you."

Malfoy chocked on the tea that his house elf had brought him.

"Excuse me," Malfoy said, wiping his lips on a napkin. Harry wasn't sure if it was a question, or an apology.

"I've been assigned by the Ministry to protect you, and your son," Harry repeated.

"From who?" Malfoy sounded worried.

"Death Eaters, and they're targeting the people who," Harry glanced at his file for reference, "betrayed their lord, or have upset him in some way. Muggles and Muggle-born are targets as well, but their main priority is within their inner circles." Harry looked up from the folder.

"And what will that involve?" Malfoy asked, regaining composure.

"Yeah, I was getting to that, you see-" the doorbell rang. Lucas's shouts and stampeding echoed throughout the house. Pansy's unmistakable voice traveled through the house. Draco winced.

"She invited herself over. She does that sometimes. I don't need that though, Lucas needs some feminine influences."

It was Harry's turn to be shocked. _Feminine influences? What about Lucas's mother?_ As Harry was about to open his mouth and question Malfoy, the doorbell rang again. This time, in addition to Lucas's shouts and stampeding, came a loud shriek, "GRANNIE!" Not even thirty seconds later, Narcissa Malfoy (who certainly didn't look like any grandmother Harry had ever seen) was being pulled along by Lucas into the kitchen.

"Daddy, look! Gran is here!" exclaimed Lucas. Draco and Harry rose from their chairs. Surprisingly, Draco's mother embraced her son warmly. Warmly, as in one of those brief, ass-out hugs you give to someone on a first date that you didn't particularly like.

Narcissa turned to Harry and looked him up and down. "Harry Potter is it? The Boy Who Put My Husband In Azkaban? The same Harry Potter my son has so lovingly referred to as 'Scar Head' throughout his youth?" Draco blushed at this, and Harry subconsciously raised his hand to touch his scar. "Lovely to meet you, dear," she said, dropping the façade, and embracing Harry (and not in the "ass-out" way, either).

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Malfoy." Harry replied. This defiantly wasn't the reaction Harry was expecting from her. After all, he _did_ put her husband in Azkaban.

Lucas suddenly piped up. "Did you bring me anything from the French River? Did you?"

"Lucas, it's the French _Riviera,_ not the French _River._" Draco chastised. Lucas's eyes narrowed, and gave a small sneer to his father.

Narcissa scooped Lucas up. "Oh how darling! Draco, he's acting _just like you!_" She turned to Draco. "I'm going to take Lucas out for a bit of shopping," Draco started to respond, but his mother cut him off. "Those post-Christmas sales, Draco. You know how you used to love coming with me to go shopping after Christmas." Draco was blushing furiously now. "We'll be gone a couple of hours, alright?"

"Yes, of course. Have fun," Draco said, as Narcissa was carrying Lucas out of the kitchen.

"Daddy, I'll get you something, ok? Bye daddy!" Lucas shouted, already at the door.

Draco sat back down again, as did Harry. "So," Draco began, "You were saying?"

"I think I was telling you what your protection would involve?"

"Oh yes. Continue."

"Protection would involve myself, and a team of Aurors to guard you and your son; twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week-constant surveillance."

"And you'll be…?"Draco trailed off, gesticulating with his hand for Harry to continue.

"Since I'm head of this operation, I'll be stationed inside the Manor. The rest of my team is to be positioned at various locations outside the manor, and along the grounds. Stronger wards will be put up along with reinforcements of the ones already in existence." Harry paused to take in Draco's reaction; Draco's eyebrows were arched as high as they could possibly go. Harry began to wonder if they had the ability to disappear behind his hairline

"I wish you would have given me a more advanced notice, I need to make accommodations." Draco rubbed his temples. "I can't believe I'm saying this, to you of all people, Potter. When do you want to move in?"

* * *

A/N: Read and Review! Oh, and I'm sorry if Harry and Draco seem a little OOC! Thanks for waiting for the chapters. I know I wouldn't be too happy if I had to wait this long. For updates and notes, look at my profile page.

On another note: I'll be away for four weeks starting July 23rd. I'll try to see if I can get ch. 5 up pretty soon-It's almost done, and I'm already planning upcoming chapters, so stay tuned.


	5. So Pissing Drunk

Author's Notes: Finally, the long awaited chapter! Thank you SO much for reviewing, I feel like I can't say that enough. Keep it up! Also, note that there is major fluff in this chapter, but hopefully its good fluff, as fluff usually is. I still need to develop the story a little more before the slash comes in, but hopefully that'll be done in chapter six (and possibly along with a surprise appearance by a person from Harry's past-feel free to guess). One other thing- I made up a spell using a latin word meaning to 'send out.' See? Taking latin does come in handy…sort of. Oh, and since i can't get the separating lines to show up for some reason, so 111 indicates a change in scene

Warnings: Language, fluff

111

"_When do you want to move in?"_

Harry never thought he would ever hear those words leave the mouth of Draco Malfoy, in any conversation that he would be a part of.

"Well, Kingsley thinks I should start as soon as possible…" Harry's voice trailed off.

"How's tomorrow, then?"

"Er, tomorrow? Yeah, yeah, that's fine I guess. Tomorrow it is."

A calculating expression came over Draco's face. "Let's see, I can defiantly have your room done by tomorrow, but I'll need until after the holidays to make accommodations for the rest of the Aurors. Is that ok with you?"

Harry thought for a moment. Moving in AND living with Malfoys, _alone_ for the remainder of the Christmas holidays, or, face the wrath of Kingsley Shacklebolt, who would make sure that Harry never had a high profile case ever again in his career. _And that would be a waste of four years_, he thought to himself. Harry continued to debate with himself a moment longer, until Draco cleared his throat.

"Yeah, that'll work. Do you mind if I make a quick firecall then?" asked Harry

"Go right ahead. Use fireplace in the study though. The others haven't been swept recently."

Harry walked out of the kitchen, with no intention of making a firecall. He was sending a message to Kingsley via his contact stone. No one but Aurors and certain ministry officials had them, or even knew about them.

Harry reached into his pocket and held the stone in his right hand, his thumb in the special groove that activated the stone. Harry then whispered the information to the stone, and pointed the tip of his wand at the center. "_Emitto,_" Harry whispered, and his message was sent. He began walking back to the kitchen when he heard the hushed voices of Draco and Pansy. Since Draco's kitchen was so large, the sounds of their voices traveled. Harry paused to listen to their conversation.

"You actually got Potter here?" Pansy asked, surprised

"Yes I did. Why do you sound so surprised?"

"Oh, well, maybe because you two have had this little feud between yourselves ever since childhood; that even though you 'reconciled' during the war you still don't like each other?"

_That's not how he was five minutes ago_. Harry realized how dirty that thought sounded and focused back in on the conversation.

"I've grown up, Pansy, and so has he. I no longer harbor any feelings of animosity towards him," Draco responded coolly.

"Bollocks. Have you told him yet?" Pansy asked, changing the subject.

"Told him what?"

"About the price of tea in China. About Lucas, you idiot." There was a pause.

"Well I was going to, but then you came." Draco said quickly

"Draco Malfoy, don't even _try_ to lie to me."

"I'm doing it after you leave." Another silence. "I was going to, but then the topic of conversation changed, and I forgot, ok? Besides, if I told him now, it would make things more awkward between us than they already are."

"You know you've got to do it some time, Draco."

"I know, Pansy."

"Do it soon, alright? It's just making things harder on yourself. Now, I've got to go-tea with Blaise-but I'll firecall you tonight."

"Tell Blaise I said hi."

"I will"

"Bye, Pansy."

"Goodbye, Draco."

Harry decided to wait a moment before entering the kitchen. He didn't want it to be looking like he'd been eavesdropping.

"I've notified Kingsley, and everything's set." Draco snapped out of his daze at the sound of Harry's voice.

"Great. Absolutely can't wait to have a team of Aurors take over my house," Draco said sarcastically. "How long will you be staying?"

"As long as we need to. You're important to the ministry, and it's important we protect you."

"I'm only important when it suits them."

"No shit." Harry muttered under his breath

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Would you like a tour of the Manor, Potter?" asked Draco, changing the subject.

"Sure," Harry replied, and followed Draco.

111

After a two hour tour of the mansion, Harry and Draco migrated back to the kitchen, and were greeted with shouts of, "Daddy!" which permeated the Manor. Lucas came running into the kitchen with outstretched arms, and Draco bent down to greet his son. A windswept Narcissa trailed behind, arms laden with bags.

"Did you have fun, Lucas?"

"Yes we did!" said Lucas, already squirming out of his father's arms. Lucas managed to break away and was running around in circles.

"Where did you take him?" Draco inquired.

"Diagon Alley. We would have portkeyed to Hogsmeade to go to Zonko's-you know how Lucas loves those types of things- but then we came across this shop; I've never noticed it before-"

"WHEEZEY WIZARD WEASLES! I LOVE THAT PLACE!" Lucas shouted, interrupting the conversation. He then began to spin next to Harry.

"Yes, well, something like that. Anyway, I took him there. There really isn't much to say; see for yourself what we bought." Narcissa said to Draco, holding out the bag of purchases.

Draco reached in and pulled out a pair of long nude colored strings, which Harry recognized as Extendable Ears. A thought came to Harry: A Malfoy was in Fred and George's shop. There's got to be something wrong. As Narcissa continued to describe their ventures to her son, Lucas became very interested in Harry. Before he knew it, Lucas was climbing _up_ Harry (with the assistance of a chair) and was soon dangling from around Harry's neck. Harry instinctively held the small boy, not only for Lucas's safety, but for his own- the kid wasn't exactly light. Lucas's actions went unnoticed and Draco and Narcissa kept talking. He was using this opportunity to interrogate (at least that's what it seemed like) Harry.

"Why's your hair so messy?"

"That's the way it's always been."

"Hmm. Me too. What's that on your head?" asked Lucas, as he jabbed his finger into Harry's forehead.

"It's a scar, that I got when I was-" Harry was cut off.

"You're boring. Put me down!"

Harry did as he was told, and set Lucas on the floor. Once Lucas's foot touched the ground, he was running around the perimeter of the kitchen shouting, "Pygmy Puff!" as he ran.

This got Draco's attention, which halted the conversation he was having with his mother. "What did you give him?" Draco asked, perplexed. Lucas ran over to Harry and sat on his foot. "He's never acted like this before."

"I didn't give him anything, he's been like this since we left that joke shop."

Just then, something clicked in Harry's mind. "Did Lucas have any candy?"

"Not that I know of, why?" asked Narcissa

"Yes I did. It was really good," said Lucas, who was bouncing up and down on Harry's foot. Harry looked down at Lucas. "Was it licorice, by any chance?"

"Yeah! Some men with ginger hair gave me some."

Draco's eyes widened, "You're letting strange men give MY SON candy!" he asked, horrified.

"I never saw it, darling, really-"

"It was Fred and George," Harry interjected. Draco and Narcissa turned to Harry. "That's their joke shop," Harry could have sworn that he heard Draco mutter, "_No shit, Sherlock,_" under his breath. "And it looks like they slipped him some Live It Up! Licorice."

"Bloody wonderful. What does that do?" Draco asked, in an unpleasant voice.

"It supposedly frees a person of their inhibitions or insecurities. It's not being sold yet; it's still in the testing phase. Fred and George actually gave it to Molly yester-" Harry was cut off by Draco, who was now livid.

"THE WEASLES WERE GIVING _MY_ SON CANDY THAT'S NOT EVEN FULLY DEVELOPED? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW ABOUT THE SIDE EFFECTS? IF THIS DOES SOMETHING HORRIBLE TO MY SON, I'LL SEE TO IT THAT THEY BOTH GET SENT TO AZKABAN!"

"Malfoy! Calm down, Fred and George already told me-"

A small vein in Draco's forehead became visible as Draco was shouting, "So _you're_ in on this too?" Draco's voice rose an octave higher, and was becoming slightly hysterical.

"No! That's not what I mean. Fred and George gave some to their niece yesterday and the only side effects that come with the candy are mood swings," Harry paused as he felt his shoe become warmer. "And the inability to hold your bladder." Lucas burst into tears; his clothes, along with Harry's shoe, were soaked.

111

Draco was busy cleaning up Lucas, leaving Harry alone in the kitchen with Narcissa. They were both sitting at the kitchen table, and neither was speaking. Harry shifted in his seat, which brought Narcissa out of her daze enough to finally break the awkward silence.

"I've got my eye on you, Potter." This grabbed Harry's attention. "If you hurt him, I will personally hunt you down and castrate you, understand?" Harry nodded slowly, confused. _What in bloody hell is this woman talking about?_

Before Harry could give more thought to the matter, Draco reentered the kitchen and sat down. "Lucas went down for a nap; he crashed after that licorice wore off."

"Yeah, that happened to Molly too," Harry responded.

Narcissa rose from the table. "I'm going up to my room, Draco." Draco nodded and his mother left the kitchen. There was another awkward silence, which was quickly broken by Draco.

"Would you like to stay for dinner?"

Startled, it took Harry a moment to respond, "Er, I don't think I can," Harry saw a hint of disappointment in Draco's eyes, even though his facial expression showed no sign of being let down. "I've got so much work that needs to be done for tomorrow. I would have liked to, thanks anyway though." Harry saw the disappointment disappear from Draco's eyes once he heard that Harry had a legitimate reason for declining the invitation, and wasn't backing out because he wanted to leave.

Fortunately for Harry, Draco would never know that what Harry said was only half true: he _did_ have work to do, but he didn't exactly have the desire to stay for dinner. Harry would be spending plenty of time with Malfoy soon enough, and wanted to enjoy his last night of freedom.

111

After Harry left, Narcissa reappeared in the kitchen. Draco was leaning against the counter, massaging his temple. A cup of untouched tea was beside him.

"Well, it appears that you'll have more of an opportunity to tell Harry now, am I right?"

Draco grunted in response.

"Draco, darling, you're not a Neanderthal. Use words."

Draco glared at his mother for a moment and then spoke, "Please don't start this with me. Pansy and I have already had this conversation."

"I'm just saying, Draco, that now you don't have any excuses left."

"What do you mean, _excuses_?" Draco asked, offended.

"_He's in America! How would an owl make it across the Atlantic?_ Or _I don't have the time to deal with him right now, _or, _It's not the right time."_

"Those were legitimate reasons!" Draco protested.

"Excuses or not, you need to tell him now. There's no running away from it anymore, Draco."

"I was going to, today! That's the whole reason I invited him over! Things just didn't work our the way I planned."

"_Do they ever_?" Narcissa muttered under her breath, making a reference to Draco's sixth year.

"What was that?"

"I thought the reason you invited him over was to have Lucas apologize."

Draco shot his mother an incredulous look. "Do you really think that I'd make Lucas apologize more than once? It was hard enough getting him to write the bloody letter. Potter didn't remember it anyway. I invited him over because I was_ going to tell him_."

Narcissa saw the exasperated look on her son's face, and decided to change the subject.

"Well look on the bright side, Draco," Draco looked skeptically at his mother, "Potter got hotter." Draco choked on his tea, and mumbled something about checking on Lucas as he dashed out of the kitchen.

111

The telephone in Ron and Hermione's house rang. Usually, the only people who called were Hermione's parents, which is why Ron was surprised to hear Harry's voice when he picked up the phone.

"Ron, we have to go out tonight."

"Harry?" Ron asked, confused.

"Who else, Ron?"

"I thought you were Hermione's parents."

"Yes, I supposed it's possible to make that mistake," Harry responded sarcastically.

"What d'you want Harry?"

"We need to go out tonight- you, me, Fred, George, whoever, I don't care. All I know is that I need to be so pissing drunk by the end of the night that I can't even walk."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"Because I've got to live with Malfoy, that's why."

"WHAT?"

"I'll explain later, just come by my flat and bring some of that hangover potion that Hermione made. Mine's crap." Harry hung up the phone.

Ron put the phone back on the receiver, thoroughly confused. Hermione walked into the kitchen, opened the cupboard, and removed a small bottle full of clear liquid.

"Don't stay out too late," Hermione said as she pressed the bottle into Ron's hands.

111

Draco was pacing around his room. His mother, his _mother_, thought that _Potter_ was attractive! How could she be having these thought? She's a married woman. Ok, so maybe his father was in Saint Mungo's, a room away from Gildroy Lockheart, but still, the thought of his mother even thinking those things was horrifying, to say the least.

_Well it's not like what she said wasn't true,_ said a small voice in Draco's head. _No, _no,_ I did not just think that. It's just my hormones talking. Talking about those piercing green eyes and his ebony hair and that perfect body without an ounce of fat on it, and, _"FUCK!" Draco screamed as he realized what he was thinking. He threw himself on his bed and pressed his face into his pillow. A slew of muffled curses could be heard from outside the bedroom.

111

Lucas, who had been napping, woke up when he heard noise coming from somewhere outside of his room. Lucas jumped out of his bed and decided to find the source of the noise.

111

The door to Draco's room creaked open, but Draco failed to notice as his head was currently pressed into a pillow. "Bloody fucking sod! Bollocks, bollocks, FUCK!" Draco said this as he was raising his head from his pillow, still unaware of his son's presence.

"What's a 'bloody fucking sod,' Daddy?" At this, Draco's eyes widened, and turned to the entrance of his room, where Lucas was standing. He nervously tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. "Those are very bad words, Lucas. Do not EVER repeat them, do you understand me?"

"I was just asking a question," Lucas said, wounded.

_Shit,_ Draco thought as he saw the look on Lucas's face. "Lucas, come here. I didn't mean it like that," Draco said with outstretched arms. Lucas hesitated before cautiously walking over to Draco. Draco scooped up his son into a hug, and flopped back onto the bed, which made Lucas laugh. "Come on, let's go see what Gran wants to do for dinner." Lucas smiled in response, and allowed himself to be carried out of the room by his father.

111

Harry, Fred, George, Ron, Dean, and Seamus were on their way to a pub on the outskirts of Muggle London, and were almost there when Fred broke the silence that they had been walking in. "What's the occasion, Harry?"

"Ron didn't tell us anything." George added.

"Just said you wanted to get pissing drunk."

"And asked if we wanted to come,"

"So we decided, 'What the hell, we'll accompany our brother and his friends, and get completely wasted in the process.'"

"Because who are we to pass up a chance to drink ourselves sick among friends?" Dean raised an eyebrow at the last comment made by George.

"So why are we going out?"

"What does it matter if you get to drink free alcohol?" Harry responded.

"That's not answering the question, Harry."

"Yeah, Harry," Seamus began, "Why _are_ we going out tonight? It's _Wednesday_. Who goes drinking on Wednesdays at," Seamus checked his watch, "6:30 pm?"

Harry opened the door to the pub, "I do."

111

"Bloody fucking sod! Bollocks!" Lucas said as he sat in his booster seat during dinner with Narcissa and Draco. Draco's fork fell from his hand and clattered on his plate, color draining from his face. Narcissa choked on her wine.

"Lucas, darling, where did you hear those words?" Narcissa asked sweetly.

"Daddy said them to his pillow."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed. "Draco! You can't say those things when your son, or any child for that matter is around! Their minds are like sponges; they absorb everything!"

Draco was about to make a rebuttal, but decided against it. "Let's talk about this later, Mum," He said with a hint of desperation in his voice.

Narcissa ignored her son and turned to Lucas. "Don't ever repeat anything your father says to his pillow, do you understand? Those are _bad words_. Do you know what Muggles do to their children who say bad words? They wash their mouths out with _soap._"

This got Lucas's attention, "You don't know any Muggles, do you?"

"I don't, but your father does," Narcissa responded.

"And they've got plenty of soap." Draco smiled as he said this.

All the color left Lucas's face; he became terrified at the thought of strange muggles washing _his_ mouth out with soap for saying bad words. "May I be excused please?" Lucas hopped down from his chair without waiting for their answers, "Thank you, bye!" he was already out of the kitchen as he said this, and could be heard racing up the stairs into his room.

"I don't think he'll be saying any more foul words for quite some time," Narcissa said, pleased with the effect she had on Lucas. "As for you, mister," Draco started at the sound of her voice, "You will watch what you say from now on. Do you understand me? What if Lucas said those words in public? People would think we're raising some kind of potty-mouthed spoiled brat, which Lucas most certainly is not." Narcissa took in Draco's reaction, secretly pleased that she could still intimidate her full-grown son, "And if you think that I won't know if you do, you're sorely mistaken."

Draco was attempting to speak, but no words were coming out.

"This manor has surveillance charms everywhere, Draco. I know when you are sleeping, I know when you're awake, I know when you've been wanking to the men in those bloody Quidditch magazines and I know when you let Lucas stay up late. I might as well be bloody Santa Claus. Don't act so shocked, darling."

"I-I've got to go get Harry's room ready," Draco said, dashing out of the kitchen.

"I've still got it," Narcissa said smugly as she crossed her arms across her chest.

111

"Chrissakes, 'Arry," Seamus slurred. "No wonder you want to get wasted tonight."

"Good luck with that, Harry," Dean said, raising his glass.

Harry had decided to get his friends at least moderately drunk before he revealed the reason for the spontaneous binge drinking. He figured that if he told them when they were sober, they'd be more likely to tell others that the Boy Who Lived was going to be living with Draco Malfoy.

George grunted with amusement, "You know his kid came in with, was it his Grandmum? I dunno. Anyway, he came in, and Fred and I slipped him some Live It UP."

"I would have like to see that," Ron piped up

"Thanks for that, guys. You made him piss on my shoe."

Ron spat out his drink, he was laughing so hard.

"'Least it wasn't in your lap," Fred said, glancing over at Ron.

111

Draco paced around the inside of his room, trying to decide where Harry would sleep. Should he sleep in the same wing? The same floor? Or should he sleep somewhere completely different? Draco had no idea why he was making such a big deal about this. Suddenly, his fireplace flared up, and Pansy's head appeared surrounded by the flame; breaking his train of thought, and startling him.

"You're really easy to scare these days, aren't you?"

"I was _thinking,_ Pansy. You should try it some time."

"So did you do it?" Pansy asked, ignoring his comment.

"No."

"But you said you'd do it soon!"

"Soon is rather vague, isn't it?"

"Draco!"

"Pansy, why don't you just come over so we can talk normally?"

"Why can't we just talk like this?"

"Because you can't decorate a room without _limbs_, Pansy," Draco said, cleverly changing the subject.

"I'll be right over," Pansy said quickly as her head disappeared from the fireplace.

Draco stood, waiting for Pansy to arrive. After five minutes, he decided to sit down. His mind began to wander; Draco was imagining different scenarios, each one more disastrous than the next. For instance, what if he and Harry were having a conversation, and Lucas blurted something out that was inappropriate or embarrassing? What if Harry had to go into Draco's room for something, and found that Draco wasn't dressed, or worse, he was wanking? Draco shuddered at the thought.

A burst of flames once again, broke Draco's train of thought. Pansy emerged from the fireplace with a large book full of fabric swatches and paint samples.

"Show me the room," Pansy said, ready to decorate. Draco smiled; decorating with Pansy was a welcome distraction.

111

It was two-thirty in the morning, and Harry, Fred, and George were the last to leave the pub. Ron, Dean, and Seamus had all left earlier because they either had work, or plans for the next day.

Fred and George were loud, boisterous drunks, so it was no surprise when their antics caught the attention of two muggle police officers, which were patrolling the streets in a squad car.

"What are you three doing out this late?" the first officer inquired. The second officer stood silently next to his partner, his thick, ham-like arms akimbo.

"Oh look Fred, a muggle! I'll handle this," George meant to say this quietly, but in his drunken state he nearly shouted. The second officer bristled when he heard George use the term 'muggle.' George made a move toward the first officer, but stopped once the officer put his baton square on George's chest.

"Oy, Fred, he thinks he's got a wand!"

"You three are clearly overly intoxicated. I'm going to have to ask all of you to stand against the wall."

"Oci-offi-ociffer, we didn't do anything wrong!" Fred protested.

"You three are disturbing he people who live in the neighborhood," Fred looked up at the dingy apartments above the stores and the pub, "Some neighborhood."

"Should we take them downtown?" asked the second officer. This brought on rather impolite shouting from Fred, George, and Harry.

"Good idea, Dursley. A night in jail will fix them."

"Dursley? Did you just say Dursley?" the mention of the name momentarily broke Harry out of his drunken stupor.

"Oy, Harry, wasn't that the name of your cousin or something? Dudby? Dungby? Dud-dudley, right? Dudley Dursley?" George asked Harry.

"Dudley, is that you?" Harry asked, squinting.

The first officer was confused. "Do you know these people, Dursley?"

"No sir, I've never seen them in my life."

"You bloody well have. I was your fucking punching bag, remember?"

Dudley glared at Harry, "I've got no idea what you're talking about," he said, as he made for Harry, and attempted to get his hands behind his back. The first officer made quick work of Fred and George, and soon had them groaning in the back of the squad car. Dudley then shoved Harry in the car, and slammed the door on his arms, 'accidentally,' which made Harry howl in pain.

"Shut up, you bloody drunk. Dursley, go close the door, but this time, make sure there's no body parts in the way first," the officer said mockingly.

A/N: Thanks for reading, guys! Please review, and sorry for the wait, but hopefully the lenght made up for some of it, yeah?


	6. An Unexpected Arrival

Author's notes: Sorry for the wait! I've had tons of homework and other things going on in RL, so I didn't have as much time to update. I think you'll like this chapter a lot though. And I've added a new pairing to my story: Lucas/Molly. Its cute, fluffy, childhood love, nothing serious, and I'm hoping that my beta can do some artwork for it too. Also, for those who have questions and don't feel like asking them in a review, email me at rubtheleftshin at hotmail dot com (replace the at with and the dot with a period)

Don't forget to read the prequel to Break Me Down- it will clear up a lot of questions. And it has smut.

Disclaimer: All characters, ideas etc… belong to J.K Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Warnings: Fluff, and language.

* * *

111 

When Harry woke up, he found himself in a cell with Fred and Groge, somewhere in downtown London. He groaned as he sat up; his head was pounding, and he felt like his mouth was full of cotton. At first he was disoriented, but he soon recalled the previous night and the excessive drinking that had taken place.

"Good morning, Sunshine!" Fred said, as Harry was waking up.

"Oy, Harry, wake up so we can get out of here. The ministry has already sent an obliviator and they should be her any moment," George said. He too was experiencing an agonizing hangover.

Just then, the distinctive click of high heels on hard cement floors could be heard coming down the hall.

"Oh bugger," George said, putting his head into his hands.

"Good morning, boys," Hermione said as she took a vile of hangover potion out of her purse.

111

"DADDY! Wake up. I want breakfast and Gran won't make it until you're awake," said a pajama-clad Lucas, stuffed owl in hand. At that moment, Pansy came out of the bathroom, which completely disoriented a just-woken Draco.

"Well tell Gran to start it, and tell her to use the house-elves if she wants," Draco said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Pansy sat down on Draco's bed. "When did you get here, and more importantly, _how did you get into my room?_" he asked.

"You're really thick, aren't you? I was helping you decorate Harry's room last night, until 5:00am, which is why you let me stay the," Pansy looked at the clock on the wall, "Three hours that I did. And its also why you're still dressed."

"Well, do you mind if I change then?"

"Sure, go ahead." Pansy adjusted herself on the bed.

"Ahem." Draco cleared his throat, and motioned towards the doors.

"What? We're both girls here, so it's ok."

Draco threw a pillow at Pansy's head, "Out."

Pansy got up to leave, but on her way out, spoke. "So Lucas and Tina can stay then?" She asked.

"What?"

Pansy walked over to the foot of Draco's bed, bent down, and lifted up the covers, revealing a hiding Lucas and his stuffed owl. Pansy pulled them out, took Lucas's hand, and stood up.

"Lucas," Pansy said, lifting Lucas's hand, slowly explaining this to Draco as if he didn't understand English, "And Tina. The owl."

Pansy bent down to pick Lucas up, and whispered in his ear, "Your daddy's a bit stupid, isn't he?"

"Uh huh," Lucas giggled, as he was being carried out of the room.

111

"Harry," Hermione started, "I can't believe you did something so irresponsible! Fred and George could have gotten you in deep trouble. You're lucky that your cousin Dudley-"

"Did you just use the words 'You're,' 'Lucky,' and 'Dudley,' in the same sentence?" Harry asked.

"Well if you had let me finish my sentence, then you would have heard me say how lucky you are that Dudley was there. He managed to convince the police chief that it was your drunken state that made you say those things and that you weren't talking about some strange other world. They were going to test you for mental stability, Harry. Do you have any idea how the ministry would explain how the Boy Who Lived ended up in a muggle institution? You wouldn't be able to escape with out causing a large disturbance," Hermione finished, her scolding complete. Harry thought about arguing but abandoned the thought, silently conceding. He looked out the window of the moving car as Hermione began to chastise Fred and George.

111

By 11:00, Draco had become impatient. When Harry said "tomorrow," he assumed that it would have been first thing. After all, Harry did have to unpack his belongings and get settled. _But what happens when you assume, Draco? You make an ass out of U and Me, that's what happens,_ said a small voice in Draco's head.

Pansy had agreed to take Lucas out for the day while Harry moved in. it was going to keep Draco busy, and the last thing he needed to worry about was a small child running around making a mess.

111

Harry was running around his flat, flinging things into his suitcases, which were charmed to fold the things inside it. _Bloody wonderful. I'm in trouble, _and _I'm late,_ he thought as he picked up his alarm clock. Would he even need one? Harry didn't even have time to think about what Malfoy would, or wouldn't be providing.

Within the hour, Harry's wardrobe was packed, with the exception of his dress robes. He took one last walk through his flat to make sure he hadn't forgotten a piece of stray clothing, or left behind any of his books. Nothing seemed to be missing, so Harry gathered his trunks in the living room, and prepared to floo to Malfoy Manor.

111

By 3:00, Harry was finally unpacked and settled in. Draco came in occasionally to check on Harry during his unpacking, but otherwise left him to his own devices. The room Harry had been given was easily three times the size of his own flat, and had everything Harry could ever need- a desk, shelves upon shelves of books, a seating area, an obscenely large bathroom and even a small loft, which was furnished with a big, cushy chair and a small bookshelf. With this in mind, Harry began to wonder why Malfoy felt the need to build a whole separate house for the other Aurors, when Malfoy had so many extra rooms to spare. When Harry asked Draco about this, he said that he didn't need 30 dinner guests every night, thank you very much, and that by having their own house it would allow everyone more privacy.

As Harry explored the room, he quickly discovered that if you sat at a certain angle in the loft, then you weren't visible to whom ever was walking in the door. And it was here, in this loft, that Harry was able to see Malfoy walk into his room. He watched him walk around the room (looking for Harry, most likely), checking out all of Harry's different trinkets; even going through his wardrobe ("I didn't know Potter wore boxers!" "I can't believe he actually _owns_ something this hideous…actually, I can."). Harry was rather amused by this, and watched as Malfoy turned to leave. An idea struck Harry, and he quickly apparated to outside the entrance to his room.

111

Draco, who had been searching for Harry, opened the door to leave only to be met by Harry himself.

"Shit!" Draco shouted, startled.

"What?" Harry asked innocently.

"Nothing, I just wasn't expecting to see you there, that's all."

"What were you doing in my room?"

"I was looking for you, I needed to tell you something. Draco started to stare at Harry's hair.

"Well, what was it then?"

"What was what?"

"The thing you were going to tell me," Harry said with his arms crossed, leaning against the door frame. Draco noticed how Harry's bicepts bulged slightly when he did this.

Draco cleared his throat, " Oh yes, right. Tea is in thirty minutes, if you'd like to join me. Just come down when you're ready. If you want it, of course. Oh, and just a warning, Lucas will be here with Pansy any minute. Unless you want your room ransacked by a 4-year-old, I suggest you lock your door." He said this quickly; he was embarrassed for being caught in Harry's room, _and_ zoning out during their conversation.

_This is going to be one long holiday,_ thought Draco.

111

Surprisingly enough, the week went by fairly quickly. Draco's mother agreed to stay until the end of the holidays (instead of visiting friends in Milan for New Year's) to help watch Lucas while Draco was overseeing the construction of a guesthouse on the Malfoy property. The building of the house took up much of Draco's time, which of course, was fine by Draco- it gave him an excuse not to talk to Harry.

Harry too seemed fine with Draco's absence. He mainly spent most of his time in his room, researching curses and spells that might be useful in protecting the Manor.

When Harry and Draco were forced to be in contact with each other, which were mainly during meals, they made polite conversation. Even Lucas managed to be polite, and not embarrass Draco…for the most part. There was one incident, however, on the third night, during dinner.

(Flashback)

"And so I was thinking, Draco, that I'd stay until after the holidays. I don't get to see Lucas that often anyway."

Draco rolled his eyes, secretly glad his mother offered the help, "If you insist," he drawled.

"You don't have any plans for New Year's, do you?" Harry asked as he finished a mouthful of mashed potato.

"Not really, why?" Draco asked, suspiciously.

"Good then. You'll be coming with me."

"What?" Draco was thoroughly confused.

"Well, seeing how I already had plans, _and_ you have to be under my supervision at all times, it would only make sense if you came with me," Harry said, taking another bite of potato, "'Sides, if I want to go anywhere this week, you have to be with me."

There was an awkward silence until Narcissa broke it, "Who, and what do these plans involve?"

"Just a New Year's party at the Weasley's."

Draco nearly spewed his drink all over the table. "I think we'll stay here, thank you. We'll be fine for the evening." Draco said, wiping his mouth. Lucas scooped some mashed potatoes on his spoon and flung them at Draco. Luckily for Lucas, the potatoes missed their target, and since Draco was too involved in the conversation at hand, he ignored it.

"Unfortunately, that's not up to you. I go where you go, and you go where I go. It can't be helped."

Draco was about to speak when Narcissa shot him a warning glance, " I suppose we'll have to make the best of the situation, as much as I…dislike the Weasley's, it does seem to be the best decision."

Draco groaned and put his head in his hands in defeat.

"I don't want to go to the weasel house. It's going to be yucky, isn't it daddy?" Lucas asked. Draco raised his head from his hands and silently pleaded with Lucas not to say anything more.

"What makes you think it would be yucky, Lucas?" Harry asked. He almost sounded offended.

"Well daddy says that they're poor, so they're dirty and don't have nice things."

"Lucas, _Va à ta chambre! Vite!_" Draco whispered harshly.

"What did I do?" Lucas asked confusedly.

"Just go." Draco was still glaring at his son.

"Fine!" Lucas said, as he slid down from his chair and stomped out of the kitchen and up the stairs. "Fucking sod! I don't care about the soap either!" Lucas shouted as he slammed the door to his room.

Harry would have made a response about what Lucas had said, but he figured that the embarrassment that Draco was wallowing in was punishment enough.

"So we're going to the Weasley's then?" Narcissa asked brightly.

111

"Why is _he_ here?" Ron asked grumpily.

"You know that Harry can't let them out of his sight!" Hermione said sternly. "Harry! So lovely to see you, talk to Ron for a bit, I'm going to get more drinks." And with that, she scurried off to the Weasley's kitchen.

"So Harry," Ron began, "How are you holding up?"

"Not bad. The room I've got is bigger than my flat. I'll be glad when the other Auror's are in though, it's like I'm a bloody nanny."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, taking a sip of the drink Hermione placed in his hand.

111

"Are there only adults here?" Lucas whined to Draco.

"I believe there is one child your age, Lucas. Let me ask, alright?" Draco left Narcissa and Lucas to go find Hermione. She wasn't too hard to spot- the bushy brown mane of hair helped distinguish her from the sea of redheaded Weasley's.

"Granger," Draco said, grabbing Hermione's arm.

"Yes, Malfoy?" Hermione responded irritably.

"Are there any children here?"

"Yes, my daughter should be around here somewhere," Hermione stood on her tip-toes to see if she could spot her young daughter, "And it looks like she's already found a friend."

"Oh good," Draco said. He watched Lucas and Molly scamper up the stairs.

111

"You aren't seeing anyone, are you, Harry?" Ron asked. It was nearing midnight and flutes of Crystal Ball Champagne were being passed out.

"No, why?" Harry was a tad suspicious.

"Well I've got this friend, who has this friend, who has a sister. She's available."

"And your point?"

"Well, I kind of told my friend's friend's sister that you'd go out with her."

"What?! Ron, you can't keep trying to set me up!"

"I'm sorry mate. Its just that you haven't _really_ been with anyone since Ginny, and that was in 6th year! Its rather pathetic, acutally." The room became silent as Mr. Weasley announced the beginning of the countdown.

111

Lucas and Molly eventually came downstairs and joined narcissa and Draco on the couch.

"And just where have you two been?" Narcissa asked playfully.

"We were having a tea party," Molly answered.

"Yeah, we were talking and we decided to get married."

Draco attempted to stifle a snort to Lucas's response. "Oh really?" he asked, playing along.

"Yeah. The wedding won't be for a couple of years though. Not until we're 7 or 8 at least. We want a long engagement," Molly added wisely. The two young children were holding hands.

The countdown towards the new year was beginning.

Five. 

"Luke, since we're getting married, you have to kiss me when the clock strikes twelve," Molly said as every one was chanting the numbers.

_Four._

"Ok, where?"

_Three._

"The lips, where else?"

_Two._

"Ok."

_One._

Lucas, still holding Molly's hand, turned and kissed her on the lips, just as the adults cheered, ringing in the new year. Couples kissed, and alcohol was spilled, but the two young children didn't go completely unnoticed. At the strike of 12, Harry looked over in Draco's direction and saw the two children's brief (but not lightning fast, either) kiss. When they pulled away, Harry locked eyes with Draco. He got a strange feeling in his stomach, almost as if there were butterflies, and suddenly Harry no longer thought of protecting Malfoy as a chore anymore.

The two children sat on the floor, with their backs against the couch.

"I love you Luke," Molly said, resting her head on lucas's shoulder.

"I love you too, Molly," Lucas replied, taking her hand in his as they both drifted off towards sleep.

111

It was nearing three in the morning before the adults got their acts together and began to leave. Harry walked over toward the couch where Draco and Narcissa were chatting quietly. "Are you ready to go?" Harry asked.

"I am, but I don't' know about Lucas," Draco replied, motioning to the two sleeping children. Hermione and Ron came over, and were about to ask if Harry had seen Molly, when they noticed the couple on the floor.  
"Oh how adorable!" Hermione whispered.

"Malfoy, your son is sleeping with my daughter!" Ron said, half jokingly.

"Ah, yes, I don't supposed they told you about their wedding, have they?" drawled Draco. Ron was speechless.

"Honestly, Ronald. Its just puppy love, its not anything serious."

"Well, still, a Weasley and a _Malfoy," _Ron said as if he had a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Oh come off it, Ron," Harry said, giving Ron a playful nudge, "the two families are bound to combine someday." Both Ron and Draco laughed at that same time.

"Ooh, look at the time," Narcissa said, checking the clock. "We really must be going."

"Yes, We've got early days tomorrow," Hermione said as she picked Molly up. Lucas stirred as Draco bent to lift him as well.

"Ron, tell your mum thanks, for having us, yeah?" Harry said, taking a handful of floo powder, and throwing it in the fire. He allowed the Malfoy's to go first. Once he was sure they were gone, Harry pulled Hermione over to the side.

"Did you know that Ron is playing match maker with me?" Harry asked.

"Well, he did mention something about setting you up with someone, now that I think of it."

Harry leaned in closely, "He set me up with a _girl,_ Hermione. You know I don't fancy girls. What am I going to do?"

"Well, you have three options: Go on the date, and have an awful time; decline the date and have Ron keep trying to set you up, or, come out of the closet" Hermione said simply. Harry was about to respond, when Ron entered the room.

"I'm going to owl you about that date, Harry." Ron said, taking some floo powder in his hand.

"Ok, sure," Harry said awkwardly. "See you later." Harry threw his powder into the fire, said his destination, and was gone.

111

The next day was a busy one. Draco was rushing around, trying to prepare the guesthouse and the New Year's dinner for that evening. Harry too, was busy. He was putting together files for each Auror, and compiling their schedules. He was also creating maps for the SWU Aurors (Special Wards Unit), who were being "imported," so to speak, from some foreign countries, which Harry didn't know yet. This gave him the extra task of charming his quills to produce copies in at least four different languages.

By dinner, Harry was still up to his neck in work, so he opted to have his dinner in his room. This was fine by the Malfoys, because they were having guests (which the ministry had done in-depth background checks on) over. Unfortunately for Draco, he could only invite 10 people; a considerably smaller amount than he usually invited to his New Year's bash. When Harry initially told Draco that he couldn't have the huge, annual ball, Draco was pissed. (He gave Harry the cold shoulder for a couple of days, but gave up when he realized that Harry didn't notice.) He got over it though, and ultimately decided that having the intimate get-together would be better.

111

The laughter from the dining room was distracting. There was one guest (Harry couldn't tell who) who had a particularly obnoxious laugh, and every time Harry heard it, his headache intensified.

Harry's room was in the west wing of the manor, facing north, which gave him a spectacular view of the Malfoy's garden in back. In an attempt to relieve his headache and get away from the noise, he went out to his balcony.

Harry's headache was finally beginning to ebb away when the screech of an owl brought it all back. _What is it now?_ Harry thought to himself. The bird landed on the banister and stuck out its leg, to which a large, thick envelope had been attached. Harry recognized this as one of the Ministry's birds, and took the owl into his room.

111

Outside the manor, there was the loud crack of apparition. A young man straightened his cloak and levitated his trunks to the front gate, which was guarded by two gargoyles. "What are you doing here?" asked the first one.

"I'm on assignment," the young wizard answered, "I'm one of the Auror's called in by the Ministry."

"Really? What's the password, then?" the second gargoyle asked. There was a small rustle in the bushes. The young wizard looked over his shoulder and whispered the password to the second gargoyle.

"You're one of the foreign ones, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir. Would you mind letting me through now? It's wicked cold out here."

"Yes, yes, go on through." The gate opened enough for the foreign wizard and his trunks, and then closed with a slam.

111

A house elf alerted Draco that there was an Auror, so Draco politely excused himself to tend to the Auror.

Draco's first impression of the young Auror was _American._ Everything from his robes to his haircut oozed of a different culture. He even _smelled_ different (_What is that? It smells so musky. Almost spicy, and defiantly masculine…I must find out what it is_, Draco thought to himself). Physical features aside, he was still an Auror, who was here to work, not play (and Draco suspected that he was straight, too).

"You're here a bit too early, so I'm afraid I don't have a place for you to sleep. The guest house won't be ready for another day and a half. Do you mind sharing a room?" The American arched his eyebrows. "Not with me, you twat," Draco rolled his eyes, "With the other Auror."

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine. I'm wicked tired, so anywhere is good," the American said, rubbing an eye.

"Very well, I'll have an elf take your bags. You'll follow me," and with that, Draco began walking towards the west wing, leading the American to his temporary room.

111

Harry opened the letter and scanned its contents. Inside was a roster of the Aurors who'd been assigned to this operation. It also included the names and descriptions of each of the international Aurors, of which there were four. Harry was getting to the last name when there was a knock on his door.

"Potter, open up." Draco sounded a tad bit annoyed, so he quickly made his way to the door.

"What is it?" Harry asked as he opened the door. His heart nearly stopped.

"Holy shit," was all he could say.

* * *

A/N: Review, review, review!! 

And if you want to review my little prequel, that would be nice too :)

Look in my profile for updates on the story!


	7. Wake Up Call

Author's Notes: Hey guys- sorry for the wait. I was hoping to get this up by thanksgiving, but then track started, and I've had this thing called National History Day to work on, and it's a pain in the ass. So these things haven't really left me with much time to update or work on the story. Ooh, and I have artwork for Molly/Lucas, thanks to my beta, Melissa! You can find it on her deviantART account at: (Adding in the www. Of course). And I apologize for the length of this chapter, but I decided to break it up because you've waited long enough, and that way you'll get more than one chapter this week. So we all win : More A/N at the end…

Warnings: EmotionalCrying!Harry, and Draco is probably a little OOC too. Well, I think they're all a bit OOC in this story anyway. Hopefully that'll change a bit as it progresses…Also, Fluff. Angst. Don't worry, smut is coming!

Disclaimer: All characters plots, ideas etc… belong to JK Rowling and publishers etc... No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.

* * *

It was him. _Him. _Memories came flooding back into Harry's mind; Karston hadn't changed a bit. Not that he'd really expected him to.

Draco leaned against the doorframe, and crossed his arms. "Well, don't just stand there gaping, Potter. Its rude." Harry moved aside, and Draco entered, Karston following behind. So far, Harry couldn't tell how he was dealing with the sudden meeting; Karston's expression was unreadable. Draco cleared his throat.

"Are you going to speak at all, Potter?" Draco looked from Harry to Karston and then back to Harry. Karston stuck out his hand. Harry hesitated before offering his. The moment their hands met, Karston shook it once, and pulled him in for a hug, his right hand still holding Harry's.

"Harry! Long time no see! How's England been treating you?"

"It's been, " Harry's voice cracked. He cleared his throat before continuing, "It's been good."

Draco shifted his weight and raised an eyebrow; "You two know each other, then?"

"You could say that," Harry ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in the back.

"Dude, c'mon! We went to the Salem Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in the Auror training program, _and_ we were roommates," Karston leaned over to Malfoy, "He's just surprised," he whispered.

"I see. I'll just leave you two alone. You obviously have some catching up to do, and I've got a party to host." Draco disappeared out the door, shutting it behind him.

"So," Harry shifted nervously, "how are you?" he whispered.

"Better, much better."Karston was looking at the floor. "I'm sorry, Har, for the way it ended. I know that this whole thing was sudden, but can we for get about what happened between us; put it behind us, as long as we're working together?"

"You want me to forget, do you?" Harry asked angrily, eyes shining. "Tell me something, Karston, can you just forget 3 years of our lives? Can you put something so substantial away in the back of your mind and not think about it?"

"Harry, please," Karston begged.

"No! How can I forget my first love, my first _real_ boyfriend? When I was with you, I could be myself. I come here, and I've got expectations to meet, an image to uphold, I-"

"Harry,"

Harry wiped away the tear that was threatening to fall. "What?"

"Is there something wrong?" Harry looked at the floor, and crossed his arms. "You haven't told them yet, have you?" Karston asked quietly. Harry shook his head, not bothering to look up. "Harry," was all Karston could say, and embraced him. It was at that moment Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, broke down and cried. For the first time in hears, Harry was actually crying; crying for the lie he was living and the love he'd lost.

After about twenty minutes, the tears had stopped.

"Jesus, I'm such a bloody pouf," Harry chuckled as he wiped his eye.

"Nah, no more than usual," Harry punched him in the arm. "Well at least you don't punch like one," Karston said, rubbing his arm.

"I guess I should fill you in on the situation then, " said Harry, changing the subject.

"That would be helpful," Karston said sarcastically.

"Watch it, or you'll get another one," Harry raised his fist.

"Oh, I'm _so_ scared. Harry Poofter is going to beat me up." And with that, Harry began chasing Karston around the room.

111

The next day, Draco woke to giggling and the covers being thrown off of his bed. Draco turned his head to one side, and opened his eyes.

"Morning," said the man who was lying next to Draco in bed. Draco was so startled he nearly fell out of his bed.

"Who the bloody hell are you?"

"Well you screamed my name enough last night, so you must have some idea of who I am," The stranger said nonchalantly. Draco's eyes bulged; he was racking his brain to figure out who this strange (but quite sexy) man was, and if he actually slept with him. _I don't remember him…but he does seem familiar, _Draco thought as he probed his memory further.

After about a minute, Pansy came out of the bathroom, cackling like a hyena. "Draco," she gasped, wiping away a tear, "You should see your face!" Draco looked from Pansy back to the Man, who, he noticed, was wearing a pair of American flag boxers.

The Man propped himself up on one elbow and extended a hand. "Nice to meet you, Malfoy. I'm Karston Reilly. Division 1, Special Task Force, for the Federal Bureau of Magic, United States. I'm here to help with the wards." Draco couldn't help but notice that he left out the "r" in wards.

"Well that's all and good, but why are you in my room, and in your knickers?" Draco asked as he stood up.

"Pansy's idea." He said with a shrug. Draco glared at Pansy. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna go use your bathroom and put my clothes back on, and _then_ we can introduce ourselves, ok? Good."

"Explain yourself." Draco said. He was still recovering from the shock of the surprise wake-up.

"You see, Draco, normally when you host these parties, you stay up late, get drunk, possibly shag one of your guests, and then sleep 'til 3 in the afternoon."

"What's wrong with that?"

"I love how thick you are in the morning. Today's the day that you've got the Aurors coming, you dolt."

"Oh bugger." Draco put his hands over his eyes and groaned.

"Bugger is right. How are you going to tell Harry that he's the father of your child now?"

111

Karston was just pulling on his t-shirt when he reached for the doorknob.

"When are you going to tell Harry he's the father of your child?" 

Karston stepped back from the door, stunned at what he'd just heard. _It can't be, can it?_ He wondered to himself. He decided to continue listening at the door, lest he hear something of value.

"_I didn't even think of that, Pansy. Now I'm completely screwed."_

"_Maybe once things get underway…"_

"'_Once things get underway' what?"_

"_Then you can seduce him and give him the best sex that he's ever had, so that he'll never want to leave you, and then you three can live happily ever after." _

"_First of all, that has a snowball's chance in Hell of happening. Second, I'd have to be attracted to Harry to fuck him, let alone seduce him. And third, he'd have to be a queer, Pansy. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink, you know."_

"_Don't give me that, you bloody sod. I've seen how you are around him. You're like Granger was around Professor Lockhart during second year. And as for the fancying blokes part, well, lets just say that's not our biggest obstacle."_

"_What are you implying Pansy?"_

"_Oh, nothing, nothing…"_

Karston quietly backed away from the door, trying to make sense of what he had just heard: Harry had fathered another man's child, Draco was gay and had a crush on Harry, and from what he could infer, Pansy knew more than she was letting on about Harry's preference.

_Holy shit,_ Karston thought to himself,_ this just might work._

Not wanting to attract suspicion, Karston turned the handle and opened the door. "Jesus, you're bathroom is _huge! _Nice tub, by the way. That has to be some fun for you two," he winked.

"Us two? You mean Pansy and I?" Draco asked incredulously. 'Oh, no. No, no, no. We're just good friends," Draco explained.

"Yeah, I'm not his type. He likes the manly ones. Preferably with manly bits to go along. I think that's a requirement, actually. The parts, I mean."

"Pansy, do you always have to do that?"

"Do what?"

"Announce that 'Draco likes blokes' to every person you meet?"

"Well, you've just done that yourself. I was merely implying that."

"Implying my arse." Draco threw himself onto his bed. "Fuck you, Pansy."

"Why Draco! Just when you had me thinking…I didn't know you switched teams!"

"You guys wanna stop fighting and go eat? I'm wicked hungry," Karston said, in an attempt to stop the fight.

"Yes, that's a _lovely_ idea Karston. Get your lazy arse up and dressed Draco, we'll meet you down there." As Pansy and Karston left the room ("Draco _never_ opens the door for me!"), Draco buried his head into his pillow. He could only guess as to how everything was going to play out.

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A/N: I know. I suck. I should have updated more, but you're gonna get another chapter, don't worry. I apologize for anything that doesn't make sense, or any grammar/spelling issues, because my beta isn't here at the moment. Although I _have_ spell checked it and proof read it as thoroughly as I can. Oh, and before I forget- Merry Christmas! I hope you all had a good holiday. 


	8. Breakfast at the Manor, and other things

Author's Notes: Here's the second part of ch7, or 8th chapter, if you prefer to call it that. I don't really like how this came out, but hopefully it will be ok. Sorry for the wait, I had midterms, which took up a good portion of my time, and a whole mess of other things… I think I'll try to be more consistent though, and update once a month, instead of having you wait in uncertainty.

Warning: More OOC, language, fluff. Smut to come!

Disclaimer: See previous chapters.

* * *

"There you are, Karston. I wondered where you went this morning," Harry said, buttering a scone.

"I was with Pans, Harry. Dude, you should have been there, it was fucking hilarious. We scared the shit out of Draco, didn't we, Pans?" Harry mouthed _"Pans?"_ to Karston, who winked back in response. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Oh yes, it was quite good. I wish we had a camera to photograph it. As the Weasel would say, it was 'Bloody Brilliant.'" Pansy reached from behind Harry and took his scone. "Thanks, love."

At that moment, Lucas came charging into the kitchen. "PANSY! You're here for breakfast! You said you were leaving, but you didn't but that's ok too; did I tell you I'm engaged?" Lucas asked, in one breath.

"Why yes, dear, I believe you have. But Karston here, I bet he'd _love_ to hear about your engagement," Pansy replied, handing off the scone to Karston.

Lucas looked Karston up and down. "Very well, come with me," he said, with a tone that was eerily like his father's. "You'll want to get comfortable," Lucas chattered on, as he dragged a helpless Karston out of the room.

Pansy sat down adjacent to Harry, and grabbed an apple from the bowl in the middle of the table. "So Karston tells me you two know each other…quite well, if you know what I mean." Pansy winked, taking a bite.

Harry blanched, "We studied together. He was my roommate, if that 's what you mean." He took another scone, buttered it, and took a bite, in an attempt to hide the fear in his voice.

Pansy swallowed and leaned in closer to Harry, "What I _mean_ is that you two used to _f-u-c-k_," She whispered, putting a pause between each letter..

"He told you _what?_" Harry tried to keep his voice down, but his response came out strangled, as he choked on a bit of scone.

"Oh, don't worry, Harry darling. Your secret is safe with me. I'm very good at keeping secrets. Just ask Draco."

"Ask me what?" Draco asked, descending the stairs that led directly from the second floor, to the kitchen.

"About how good at keeping secrets I am."

"Oh please, Pansy. Name one secret that you've held."

"But then I would be telling wouldn't I?" she asked, obviously pleased with herself. Draco was about to reply, but gave up, and sat down at the table in defeat.

111

"And so, Molly and I were having tea, and she said 'You're nice, we should be friends.' And then I said, 'you're really nice too. And you're pretty.' And then she said 'You have very handsome features; I fancy your green eyes. Lets get married,' and then I said 'ok.'" Lucas finished, and then let out a breath. He looked rather pleased with himself.

"Wow, I wish my dates turned out that well," Karston said, leaning back on the sofa. He paused a moment before he spoke, "Lucas, do you have a mommy?"

"If you mean a _mummy,_ then no." Lucas replied, nonchalantly.

"Really? Do you ever wonder why?"

"Not really. I did ask Daddy once, and he wouldn't say anything, so then I asked Gran, and she said 'magic.' _Special_ magic." Lucas smirked.

"I think I know what she's talking about."

"Want to go get some breakfast, and then play a game?" Lucas's attention span was growing shorter by the second, and was looking for something else to do.

"I could manage that," Karston smiled, as he took the small boy's hand in his own, and walked to the kitchen.

111

Draco was getting fed up with Pansy. She was saying too many suggestive things, and dropping too many hints, in his opinion. Things like how she'd rather "_Save a broomstick, and ride a Quidditch player_," more specifically, a "certain male keeper named Oliver Wood," as she glanced in Draco's direction. These comments certainly didn't ease the awkward tension around the breakfast table. She was just getting around to asking which food everyone preferred, when Lucas walked in, with Karston in tow.

"America is close to Mexico, isn't it Karston? And Salem is in America, so you must have had tacos before. I myself, have not. But since you have the experience, can you tell me if you prefer sausages to tacos?" Pansy winked.

Not missing a beat, Karston replied, "I like both. But as of late, tacos have been my first choice. If I'm given the option, that is."

"I like sausages. I don't know what tacos are though," Lucas said, screwing up his face in concentration. "Are tacos good?" Pansy nearly spat out her tea, and Harry was pounding himself on the chest, as he choked on his scone again. "Do you like tacos Daddy?"

Draco took an unusually long drink from his Earl Grey, not sure how to answer the question and keep his dignity intact at the same time. Pansy was giving Harry a strange look, and almost motioning with her head, in Draco's direction. He could only begin to imagine what that meant.

Lucas was sick of waiting for an answer, and broke the silence, "I want waffles. I'm hungry." Draco nodded his head, and told Lucas to go tell the house elves. On his way out, Lucas asked, "Can Karston play with me, before he has to work?"

"I don't know, you'll have to ask," he replied as he motioned to Harry.

Lucas cleared his throat, and in his most polite voice, asked, "Mr. Potter, would you allow Karston to play a game with me before he has to work?"

"That depends, what kind of game were you thinking? It's pretty cold outside, and there's snow on the ground. I can't have my team get sick, of course." Harry answered, mock-seriously.

Before Lucas could answer, Karston replied, "We were thinking football, the _real_ kind. In fact, I think it's time you Brits got a taste of American culture. We have three hours before anyone gets here, so that's plenty of time to learn and play. And it can be played in the snow, we'll just dress warmly," Karston added excitedly, before Harry could object.

"Ugh, you mean that muggle sort where you only use your feet to kick a ball around a field?" Draco said this as if he had just witnessed his mother kiss Professor Snape.

"Nah, that's _your_ football. I'm talking about American football. The sport that separates the boys from the men." Karston flexed his bicep as he said this, and Pansy giggled. Karston could be so immature, Harry thought to himself.

"Brilliant idea, Karston, we'd love to!" replied Pansy.

"Sweet. I'll meet everyone outside. Go out, and find an open spot, one that doesn't have too many bushes around. Harry, when you get out there, start melting a patch of snow."

111

With the exception of Draco, everyone was able to catch on to the concept of American football. Even Lucas could understand it better than his father. When they tried to play a small game, Draco kept calling time outs, to ask questions.

"Wait, how do I know when a quarter is up?"

"Merlin, Draco! That's like the fifth time you've asked that!" Pansy said exasperatedly. She was rather miffed; Karston was about to tackle her when Draco called the time out.

"Fine then, Pansy. I'm not going to ask any more questions, because I give up on this barbaric muggle game." Draco stalked off to the nearest stone bench to watch the rest of them play.

"Is he always this moody?" asked Karston.

"He's worse than a bloody girl," Pansy replied.

111

Draco watched enviously as everyone continued the game of football without him. How come non-magical sports came so easily to them-to his four-year-old son! - more easily than they came to him? However, as he watched the game, Draco's jealousy ebbed away. Lucas was tackling Pansy fiercely, but he was putting in extra effort when it came to Harry. Karston too, looked like he was enjoying himself, especially when he could tackle Pansy (Or when he made any contact with her, actually), and she definitely didn't mind the attention.

But there was a certain brunette, who captured the blonde's attention. The way Harry's biceps bulged when he was getting ready to throw the ball (Draco could not understand _why_ he would want to play outside, without a cloak in temperatures that were barely above freezing-and in muggle clothes, mind you), the way his jeans kept slipping down when he ran, and the way he looked when Lucas tackled him. Harry would play along and let Lucas think that he was beating him. Lucas would squeal with delight each time Harry fell to the ground, feigning pain ("Oh, you've got me!").

Draco's mind began to wander, as it often did, and he started to think about the secret he was keeping from Harry.

111

Along a dark passage way voices could be heard, bouncing off of the cold stone. The sound appeared to be coming from the end of the hallway, which was unlit, making it unnoticeable to the passerby...not that you'd be a passerby if you even made it _in_ to the place where the passage was hidden.

"Do shut up, Martin. You're an insufferable, pig-headed- "

"Be quiet, both of you!" yelled a voice. "We need to go over these plans again. We have half an hour before De Redon has to report to work, which doesn't leave us much time to discuss this." The two men looked like wounded puppies. "Wipe those looks off of your faces. You'd think you two were children, the way you're behaving.

"The plan, as given to us by our master is that you, De Redon, are to pose as the Foreign Auror Bertrand Colville. You will report all findings and details back to myself, and no one else. Is that clear?" Martin De Redon nodded. "Wonderful. Now go take the polyjuice potion so it has time to get into your system before you floo. You needn't attract any unnecessary attention to yourself; we _all_ know how flooing can affect the properties of the polyjuice if taken too early, don't we, Martin?"

111

"Bonjour, Monsieur Colville."

"Casse-toi." _Go away._

"I was going to, but first, I have to do one thing. _Stupefy!_" De Redon walked over to the stupefied Auror and knelt down, withdrawing a glass phial from his robes. He cast a quick _tondeo_ spell, which saved him from shaving the prisoner's head the muggle way. He swept the hair into the phial and corked it. "_Finite incantatum_."

Colville sat up, and felt around his body, checking for any anything that the other wizard might have done to him. When his hand reached his head, Colville glared.

"Now you sit here and have fun!" De Redon said mockingly.

Bertrand Colville reached up to feel his head again, and thought about the numerous ways that he would torture the Neo Death Eaters who had imprisoned him.

111

"Are you ready, De Redon? Or should I say 'Colville'?"

"Oui," De Redon smirked.

"Very well. I expect to hear from you tonight."

"Yes, ma'am." De Redon said, stepping into the flames. "Malfoy Manor, via Ministry of Ministry of Magic, London."

111

Harry, Karston, and a few others were standing by the fire, in one of the Arrival Rooms in Malfoy Manor. It was similar to a muggle mudroom, but it was the most lavish and ostentatious mudroom that Harry had ever seen. He thought that the Persian carpets were a little much, especially for a room where people would be covered in soot.

The fire (which had been secured by a number of spells and charms) suddenly flared, and out stepped a tall, dark haired man.

"And you are…?" Harry asked, scanning his list.

"Colville. Bertrand Colville."

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Authors Notes: Yes, there are more of them :) The term Neo Death eater is not mine. It came from a story by Azhure and Wintermoon3, called _Per Solum Lacuna: By Words Alone,_ and is an AMAZING story. You should all read it. The Tondeo spell is one I made up. It means, "to shave/ I shave" in Latin. Oh, and I'm looking for a new beta. Please email me if you have experience beta'ing or would know of a good beta…oh, and REVIEW!! Please! I need to know if I should start moving the H/D relationship along etc... One last thing- I have an old LiveJournal, which I've been recently using for this story. So go there to look for news and such. 


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